


Chase

by TomAyto10



Series: Indulgence, really.... [6]
Category: Hajime no Ippo | Fighting Spirit
Genre: Best Friends, Confusion, Doubt, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6370324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomAyto10/pseuds/TomAyto10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Kamogawa.” he says, his accent emphasising the ‘ga’ in his name, making it sound smoother to his ears. He's already a little out of focus by the time Nekota speaks up again.<br/>“Kiss me again, yea?”</p><p>Kamogawa tries to run, but Nekota chases all the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chase

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UD98](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UD98/gifts).



> Obviously, based on when they were young.... they were so gay it hurts. OT3 for the win.

 

“You stink, yea.”

Kamogawa snorts, spreads wider on the mat pushing Nekota closer to the wall.

“Feel free to leave, idiot.”

Nekota sits up, dramatic as always. “No way! I'm paying rent now, yea! You ain't kicking me out.”

Kamogawa rolls his eyes, turns on his side, prepared to ignore his rival and his ramblings.

Nekota does not let him off that easy, and then there is weight on his arm, warmth at his back and shoulder as Nekota leans over him, his undershirt rubbing along Kamogawa’s sweat slick skin. 

“Hey!” Kamogawa barks out, hot from more than just the summer air, and he shifts his shoulder to shake him off. “Get off!”

“No ” Nekota says and his eyes are piercing, dark hair matting to his forehead, moonlight making shadows of his eyelashes. Kamogawa looks away, swallows against what is steadily rising in his throat, “What you do you want then?”

Nekota leans his weight harder, an arm coming over to plant itself on the other side of Kamogawa’s prone figure, and he looks up in surprise.

Nekota’s eyes are as sharp as an alley cat, cut him to the bone and still the protest forming on his tongue.

“Kamogawa.” he says, his accent emphasising the ‘ _ ga _ ’ in his name, making it sound smoother to his ears. He's already a little out of focus by the time Nekota speaks up again.

“Kiss me again, yea?”

Kamogawa has a moment where he feels like the earth has stopped on its axis, and his lungs seem to have disappeared for as much as he tries to take a breath, he can't seem to move.

Nekota blinks his eyes, seeming too calm and collected for what he had just ask.

“what!?” Kamogawa spits out and sits up, effectively pushing Nekota off of him. “what  _ did _ you say?”

Nekota crosses his legs, leans back on braced arms. “I asked fer a kiss, yea? Like tha other night yea?”

Kamogawa feels the tip of his ears all the way to the bridge of his nose burn as he blushes.

“that - that was an accident! I didn't-” then he turns in a flash to his rival, “we were drunk and-”

Nekota looks away, leans forward and plays with the sporadic hairs on his head, a nervous habit he has. “I want ta- I knows we was drunk but... “ He gets up on his knees, places a hand on Kamogawa’s shoulder and leans in closer.

“Just kiss me, yea?”

Kamogawa feels his heart beating out of his ribcage, heat strangling round his throat. “No, we can't-” Nekota’s gaze pins him down, makes him feel desperate, “What about Yuki. I thought you-”

Nekota’s eyes brighten, and then he leans away, his face pinched, gaze sliding out of attention, “i love Yuki, yea.” he says, his voice tight and restrained, “but I wanna kiss ya again, yea.”

Kamogawa ducks his head, can feel his pulse going so fast that it almost hurts. 

Rain starts up outside, sounding like an applause, and when Nekota moves in closer again, sliding his hand up along his shoulder, touching like a caress of a feather along the frantic pulse of his neck, Kamogawa resigns to the desire coursing through him. Nekota’s fingers hover over his chin, tilting his face so that Kamogawa has nowhere to look except Nekota’s wild eyes, sees how soft they are with the light filtering through water stained glass, sees how they flicker down to his lips, glowing brighter for a moment. 

And while Kamogawa, so lost in the moment, mind drowning in the dark eyes before him, isn't exactly sure, he thinks that it's him that leans up to carefully press his lips to Nekota’s, eyes closing as he admits defeat.

That first kiss comes rising from the depth of his memory to attack him now, he remembers how soft Nekota had been, how warm his tongue had touched along his lips, how fierce, uncontrolled Nekota Ginpachi had melted in that first contact. 

He isn't so still now, Nekota is pushing forward, curving closer to him and laying his other hand on Kamogawa’s chest. Kamogawa finds himself moving too, hand coming to twine in loose brown hair, fingers pressing against his neck to make soft contact more solid. 

Nekota opens his mouth, presses with a hesitantly lick against Kamogawa’s lips, and Kamogawa breathes out an exhale through his nose, and opens to chase Nekota.

Nekota tastes like the patter of rain falling on the roof of the shabby place they call home, tastes wild and pure like how he imagines the mountains where the man grew up are from the stories he tells. He feels fingers pressing into his skin, another pulling at loose shirt he sleeps in, eager, shaky and then a soft curling sound reverberates against his mouth.

A  _ purr _ . A  _ moan _ .

Kamogawa pulls away, flushed and breathing hard. His skin is flashing hot in waves, he is suddenly aware of every bead of sweat that glides down Nekota’s face. 

Nekota’s wild gaze is half lidded, he looks like a domesticated cat, content and lulled into quietness but then he shifts, sits up and frowns.

“yea…?”

Kamogawa can't seem to look at him, stares at the far wall of the bus and avoids making eye contact. He feels guilty of all things, thinks of the future he's envisioned for Yuki and Nekota, where the only room there for him is that of a close friend. 

“Sorry, yea.” Nekota says, sounds sullen and apologetic. “I guess I made ya uncomfortable. Sorry, I-” 

He leans away, laying back on the mat and covering himself with the thin blanket, his back to Kamogawa, curled up against the world.

Kamogawa has so many words rattling in his brain: apologies, explanations, confessions, but his tongue is heavy in his mouth, won't move to obey his convoluted mind, and instead brushes out to chase more of Nekota’s pure wild taste. It's still on his mouth, caught in the damp clinging to his lips.

“Goodnight, yea.” Nekota mumbles, quiet enough that Kamogawa only catches it because of his hushed breathing and the absence of the rain that has stopped falling on their makeshift home.

He wants to reach out and pull the other man close, admit to the burning bright in his chest when he sees him and Yuki smile, how right he feels the world is after so much has been taken from him. If he can keep them both, close, alive, happy, that's all he wants.

Instead, he lays beside Nekota’s still figure staring at the ceiling, his mind drifting to and fro, focusing sharply on the memory of Nekota’s lips on his, how warm his hands were, chasing the tremor of sensations that swept through his body when they had kissed.

 

He doesn’t sleep much that night. He knows why, can't still his thoughts long enough to let him fall into blissful empty sleep. The rain has started up again, an incessant  _ patpatpat  _ clinking against the roof. 

Nekota rolls onto his back, sudden movement that makes Kamogawa stiffen and look over to his companion. 

He looks soft as he sleeps, dark locks a mess over his unfurrowed brow, lashes long and feathery against the tan of his cheeks.

His lips are damp, he was probably drooling all over the mat but Kamogawa only wants to kiss him more.

He reaches out to fix the shifted blanket over him, finding safety in the action but it only proves to be his demise when he glances at Nekota’s hand.

He can see the crisscross marks of past punches, skin torn, healed over and torn again from those lightning hits that have rendered Kamogawa to his knees more than once. His knuckles are hard, long fingers twitching in response to whatever dream he's having. 

Kamogawa’s arm is moving before his thoughts have set, his hand slipping over to touch the limp edge of Nekota’s hand.

Doing so is a mistake. Nekota is warm, real to the touch, makes his heart ache with new want. He grips harder, hold loose enough that it won't wake the man but enough so Kamogawa can relish in the moment better. 

He's staring at the difference in size, in the width on his palm compared to Nekota’s, the callouses he can feel rubbing against his skin.

Then, fingers curl around his, tight and solid. Kamogawa shifts in surprise looks from their held hands up to Nekota’s face.

Nekota’s eyes are slitted open, looking at him, his mouth curved into a smirk. The look is so classic Nekota, Kamogawa has a hard time trying to determine if he wants to punch him or kiss or both.

Nekota looks down at their held hands, stares for a long second before he turns on his side, facing him, but not letting an inch of freedom on the tight hold of his hand.

“Nekota…” Kamogawa breathes, ready with excuses, to somehow cover up his weakness.

“Idiot.” Nekota bites back, not letting Kamogawa say whatever he was trying to. 

“go to sleep, yea?”

Kamogawa blinks at him, feels affection rise up in his throat from the flame in his heart, and when Nekota scoots closer, so that the soft wild hairs of his head kiss up against Kamogawa’s shoulder and chin, he only smiles and tightens his hold on the hand in his. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Talk shipping to me @DipuCXOXO


End file.
